Intrigue
by FaylinnNorse
Summary: She had just come out in society, too young and too wild. Mr. Valentine was too old and too much in love with his late wife. Then there were the murders and her sisters' mutual fixation with Mr. Strife. Why was growing up so complicated? A Victorian AU.
1. Chapter 1

Yuffie Kisaragi Locksborough was a long way from home. _Quite_ a long way, in fact. She was in the woods bordering Shinra Manor, which was a good seven miles from the Locksborough Estate. She peered through the trees with some amount of anguish as she noted that the sun was turning that horrible orangey-pinkish color and getting much too close to the horizon.

Godo was going to whip her. Or threaten to whip her while Elmyra protested that daughters cannot be whipped like sons can, and Godo would bemoan the fact that he had three daughters instead of three sons. Aerith would giggle and kiss her, and Tifa would say, "Oh, Yuffie," in that way that only she could and hug her anyway. Yuffie herself would probably make some lighthearted quip about the whole thing and be scolded once again for her _lack of good propriety_.

As if she gave a whit about propriety. But if Godo, in one of his fits of thunderous anger, threatened taking away her coming out ball tomorrow, she'd just _die_. Being four years younger than Tifa when Tifa and Aerith were barely two years apart just _wasn't fair. _So she was determined to get home, and quickly.

She turned her attention to the dappled mare beneath her. "Now, Betsy," she said, lowering her eyebrows in an attempt to look menacing. "Really. This is getting ridiculous. I want you to stop eating grass and take us both home _immediately_." She flicked the reins impatiently.

The creature chewed the surrounding foliage with ease.

Yuffie let out a bellow of intense and high-pitched rage and cracked the reins down _hard_ on the mare's back. Betsy broke into an abrupt gallop, and she lurched forward, flailing her arms around wildly as the reins were ripped from her hands. "Whoa! Slow down, girl!" she shouted, but Betsy kept right on.

They flew through the forest at an alarming pace, breaking several small branches as they plunged headlong into the thick of them. She ducked just seconds before they bolted beneath a larger branch, one that could have easily knocked her out of the saddle or beaten her brains out entirely.

Out of the woods a mere moments later, she grappled for the reins and finally got a hold of them, yanking backward with all the force she could muster. A bit too much force, perhaps.

She lay on the ground a few minutes before getting up, contemplating whether or not her head was still attached to the rest of her body. It thudded with a very dull resonance that made it difficult to think. She blinked at the world, or perhaps it blinked at her. In any case, it was flickering in and out of her vision in a somewhat startling manner.

She realized suddenly that the mare was not making any noise now, but she was still standing there, and there was someone standing in front of her. Or else she was simply seeing strange horse- and people-shaped blobs as a side effect of landing on her head too hard. But she thought they were really there.

She jumped to her feet, a bit too quickly. Her stomach did a flip-flop, and she was promptly sick in the nearby bushes. As she much as she hated being sick, she felt considerably better afterwards and could see much more clearly as well. _Maybe I should get sick more often. I feel wonderful!_

She turned back to Betsy then, and remembered the person. He was definitely not a figment of her head injury. She definitely wouldn't have imagined someone that looked like him. His hair was too long, he looked altogether disheveled, and he was wearing too much black. It overwhelmed him, all the way from his waistcoat to his boots. She decided almost immediately that he must have been a strange, disagreeable sort of man.

For a moment, she considered various ways of being rude and obnoxious to him. After all, this was, in a way, the last day she would ever be allowed to be rude and ignore all the basic rules of society. As much as she was looking forward to being treated like an adult, tomorrow really was the end.

Just as she was about to tell him how horrid he looked in so much black, she finally realized where they were. She was standing in the lawn of Shinra Manor. The _lawn_. Of _Shinra Manor. _"What—what are you doing here?" she finally sputtered at him.

He looked at her and blinked. "I...live here," he said slowly, in a deep voice that didn't sound quite used to speaking.

"What? No, you don't! You can't live here! If you lived here, I would know about it. _Everyone_ would know about it. No one's lived in Shinra Manor for years and years. It's probably haunted." She made her last remark with a nonchalant shrug and a sidelong glance at the house itself. It was huge, really, with tall gothic spires and an altogether formidable air. She gave an involuntary shudder—half fear and half delight. Ghost stories of Shinra Manor had been one of her favorite aspects of her childhood. Ghost stories of Shinra Manor practically _were_ her childhood.

He was staring at her blankly.

"Well, what do you have to say about it?" she asked, turning back to him with impatience.

"I have seen no evidence of it's being haunted. But I just arrived today. The lease was settled last month."

"And where did you move from?" she asked.

"Midgar City."

"Oh, I see," she replied, uncrossing her arms and looking him over. His clothes looked quite finely-tailored, come to think of it. And he had that look, like he thought he was of a higher class than her. "City folk," she said. "That explains a lot." She paused briefly. "Midgar Countryside is so much nicer than the city. There's room to breathe and not so many stuck up, dowdy people." She looked at him pointedly.

He showed no sign of being even slightly affected by her words.

She sighed. "Well, what's the city like?"

He stared at her for so long she began to wonder if he was still alive. Maybe he'd just died standing up like that, and wouldn't that be horrifying to have someone die staring at you and holding the reins of your horse? She'd have to pry them from his cold, dead hands while he stared with that same blank look for all of eternity. Just as her worry was beginning to peak, he spoke, "Different...from here."

"That's very informative, Mr..." she trailed off, realizing she didn't know his name. She'd been conversing with him for a whole three minutes or so, and they hadn't even been introduced. That was a terrible breach of etiquette.

"Valentine," he answered for her. "Vincent Valentine."

"Mr. Valentine," she repeated with a genteel smile, dipping her head downward slightly. This was something Aerith had taught her, that a lady always nodded and repeated a gentleman's name when introduced to him and appeared generally sweet and demure. She thought she mastered it rather well, actually, when she put her mind to it. Now she ought to have been introduced to him as well, by a third party, but there was no third party to be found.

"I'm..." she faltered for a moment. What was she supposed to say? Calling herself Miss Locksborough seemed strange, but Yuffie was much too informal. "I'm...Yuffie Kisaragi Locksborough," she said at last.

She made a short bow and watched him do likewise. Afterwards, she stared at him, trying to mimic his blank, removed expression. It was harder than it looked. It made her face feel very confined, all scrunched up in a ball of wrinkles.

After a long, awkward pause, he cleared his throat, sounding pained. "Locksborough Estate. That's...not far from here, is it?"

"Seven miles that way," Yuffie replied, pointing over her shoulder. "I should be going back, actually." She glanced at the sky. The sun was sinking at an alarming pace. It was almost half way gone now. She wondered what Godo would think of her coming in after dark with scrapes and bruises and probably a large, egg-shaped lump on her head. Well, at least she could use her various injuries as an excuse for her lateness.

She moved towards Mr. Valentine and took her reins out of his hands. He looked dubiously down at his fingers as she got into the saddle.

"I...did you want a ride home?" he asked, turning toward her. "I could lend you a carriage. It's getting late. You looked like you had a hard fall."

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied. "I do this sort of thing all the time. I mean, of course I don't make a habit of falling off horses. I'm actually an excellent rider; I just...well, you know. I was having...difficulties. Just one of those days." She glanced once more at the manor and then spotted where she'd spewed up her stomach in front of him. She felt her face redden. "Um. I'm sorry about the bushes. Really. I'll make it up to you. I'll—I'll—you can come to my ball! It's tomorrow. My first ever. It'll be wonderful, and it's a good way to meet people, especially since you've just moved in, and—" she flicked the reins just slightly, not really expecting Betsy to move very much, but she found herself abruptly heading in the opposite direction at a breakneck speed. The rest of her sentence was lost in a loud yelp as she struggled to maintain her balance.

Mr. Valentine was left standing in some confusion on the edge of his new lawn.

* * *

When she finally arrived home, the first stars were beginning to twinkle in the dark sky. She handed Betsy off to a stableboy who eyed her with some curiosity but took the mare without a word. She thanked him and continued on her way to the house.

Once inside, she made her way through the familiar halls to the parlor. The door was shut and for a moment she stayed outside, one hand resting on the brass doorknob. There was music playing softly, and she could picture Tifa's long fingers gliding across the ivory keys. Her own fingers were shorter and much less graceful. And she'd never had the patience for actually practicing the piano.

She heard Aerith's voice as well, reading aloud from one of her books. Yuffie never really understood what they were about, but she liked listening to Aerith's voice as she read. It had a nice, lilting tone to it. "Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess. We seek it thus, and take to the sky. Ripples form on the water's surface. The— "

Both sounds were abruptly cut short by Godo's shouting. "Where is she? She ought to be here by now! I told her to be back before dark! If she's not lying dead in a ditch somewhere, I've half a mind to kill her myself!"

"Now, Godo," Elmyra's soothing voice stopped him from going on. "I'm sure she didn't mean to be so late. She's just—"

This seemed like the perfect moment for Yuffie to burst into the room, and she seized the moment, throwing the door open wide and spinning into the room. The spinning came to close to making her topple over, but she steadied herself and stood in front of Godo's chair, next to Elmyra on one side, and Aerith on the settee to his left. "I'm here!" she announced to everyone. Then, in less of a shout, "Are you happy to see me, Father?"

He frowned up at her. "And where have you been, young lady?" He paused and looked at her more closely, noting all her scattered scratches, dirt, and bruises. "And what have you been doing? You look like—like something out of Aerith's novel." He frowned with fresh accusation at his eldest daughter.

Aerith smiled at him as she closed the book and set it on the table in front of her. "It's a play, Father, not a novel."

He grunted and turned back to Yuffie in front of him. "Well, what kind of mischief have you been getting into, and how ought I to punish you for it?"

Yuffie smiled at him. "You ought to do nothing at all, except perhaps be exceptionally kind to me for my trying experiences."

He raised an eyebrow at her. Beside him, Elmyra was watching her with a worried crease between her brows.

"I fell off my horse," Yuffie went on. "She was being horribly disagreeable. It wasn't my fault at all. I would have been back _long_ before dark, but she wouldn't move even an inch at my bidding, and then she galloped all the way to Shinra Manor and threw me off! I thought I might have been dead, I had such a headache. It was just terrifying!" She dropped heavily down beside Aerith with a deep sigh.

Godo snorted. "My Yuffie, terrified? I don't believe it. You probably took the old mare to Shinra yourself and were rightly bucked off for your stupidity. There's nothing to see at Shinra. I don't know what everyone's fascination with it is. It's just an old house."

"I didn't go all the way to Shinra," Yuffie protested. "And I _was_ trying to come back. Betsy just wouldn't listen. But, Father, at Shinra—"

"Yuffie, are you sure you're alright?" Elmyra broke in at this point, leaning forward in her chair. "You look horrible."

"I'm fine, Mother."

"Are you positive? It just terrifies me thinking of you riding all the way out to Shinra Manor, all alone. And then falling off your horse! You could have been killed out there, and we wouldn't have had any notion of it until—well, who knows, with the rate Shinra's visited. It's such a dreadful, lonely place, out there in the middle of nowhere."

Yuffie opened her mouth again to speak, but was forced to close it as Elmyra went on.

"And then riding all the way back in the dark and the cold, when you could probably barely sit on your horse after taking such a fall! Yuffie, you need to be more careful!"

"At least you're back," Tifa put in softly, from her seat on the piano bench. She smiled with much more sympathy than Elmyra, though she bore a similar expression of concern.

"Yes, we're very glad you're back and safe!" Aerith exclaimed beside her, smiling as she found Yuffie's hand and squeezed it tightly. "It would have been horrid if something happened to you the day before your ball."

"I know," Yuffie replied. "That's why I didn't let anything happen to me. Otherwise, I might have actually gone into Shinra Manor to look around and been strangled by ghosts who would probably eat my soul." _Or by mysterious men who wear too much black._

Aerith giggled and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"Oh, Yuffie," was all Tifa said, shaking her head and smiling at the same time.

Yuffie grinned at both of them. "I know you're all immensely glad I'm back," she said, sitting up straighter now with a renewed importance as she considered the dark-haired and dreary Mr. Valentine. She thought of him quite fondly, because even if he was very dreary and dour, he was living in Shinra Manor, which automatically made him a great source of interest, no matter what he was really like. "And it's even better than that," she went on. "I have gossip."

"Better than Mrs. Highwind having a baby come winter?" Aerith asked with a grin.

"What?" Yuffie asked, turning towards her with shock. The Highwinds were family friends, living only two miles away, at Rocketto Park. "A baby?"

"It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"But—Cid as a father?" This was something she could not for the life of her imagine. "Cid can't raise a child! What if it grows up like him?"

"Yuffie!" Elmyra reprimanded. "That's not kind. You're sixteen now; you need to start acting like a lady. Ladies do not talk disparagingly of others behind their backs."

She rolled her eyes. She didn't see this as talking disparagingly. It was the plain truth of the matter. Cid was a friend, like an uncle to her almost, but not the sort of man anyone really wanted around their children. "It's nothing against Mr. Highwind personally. I just don't see how his wife puts up with him."

"I think it's lovely," Aerith said. "He might seem like a gruff, disagreeable sort of man, but I really think he'd do anything for Shera. But, Yuffie, share your news. What is it? And where did you find out?"

Yuffie smiled, quickly forgetting the affairs of the Highwinds in favor of her own. She glanced around the room, making sure everyone was paying attention. They were; even Godo, who usually showed great contempt for all their gossiping, was watching her with interest. "Well," she began and made a brief pause, "it's just that Shinra Manor has been let at last." She said this in a nonchalant manor, flicking her wrist lightly to give a passing air to the comment. Afterwards, though, she eagerly watched for their reactions. She was pleased to see that they looked, overall, shocked.

"Let? To whom?" Aerith asked.

"A Mr. Vincent Valentine," Yuffie replied. "I met him when I fell off Betsy in front of him. And then I vomited in his bushes, but he didn't really seem to mind."

"Oh, dear," Elmyra breathed, glancing at Godo, who didn't seem to know whether to be angry or amused at the situation. He seemed on the verge of a snorting laugh, and then abruptly his mouth settled into a hard line and his eyebrows lowered sternly.

"You don't have to look so serious about it!" she said. "He was quite polite. He didn't even mention the bushes. I did, though. I told him I would make it up to him and that he could come to my ball."

Before she could even offer a pleading look, Godo exploded. "You invited him to your ball? You trespassed on his property, vomited in his bushes, and invited him to your ball? What were you thinking? Don't you know this is not done? You're in no position to invite him anywhere!"

"But I thought it would be nice. I mean, he just moved in. I thought—you know—he could meet everyone that lives in the area. And you can go call on him tomorrow morning and invite him properly."

Elmyra glanced at her husband with the determined expression of trying to make the best out of a bad situation. "I suppose it would be neighborly," she offered.

Godo glared back at her.

"Well, what was he like?" Aerith asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

"Boring," Yuffie answered immediately. "Incredibly boring. And a bit depressing looking. He was wearing too much black, like he was dressed for a funeral. It was dreadful, and he hardly said anything. The only thing I really got out of the conversation was that he's from Midgar City, settled the lease on Shinra last month, and arrived today."

"Did he come alone? Does he have family, here or elsewhere?"

Yuffie shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't see anyone else. He didn't really seem like the sort of man to have a family. Or friends. Or acquaintances." She played with a piece of her hair that had come loose from it's tight bun. She chewed on it briefly, then spat it out. "But I suppose you could say I'm his acquaintance now." She wasn't entirely sure whether or not she liked the idea.

Aerith watched her curiously. "You weren't too rude to him, were you, dear?"

Yuffie frowned at her and straightened. "Of course not! I wasn't rude at all. I just asked him some questions, that's all. It wasn't like I was interrogating him." She thought back to the conversation. It had been sort of one-sided, and she _had_ asked a lot of abrupt questions. "At least, not much," she amended. "But I'm famished!" she went on, changing the subject entirely. "Really, if I don't have something to eat, I think I might just die here and now."

Elmyra looked at her and sighed. "Go to the kitchen, dear. The rest of us have already eaten. I believe Mrs. Hart saved some for you."

Yuffie got up and strode out of the room with a smile. Altogether, she felt that her conversation with her family had been a great success. Even if Cid and Shera were having a baby, which she still found highly distasteful.

* * *

This will get more interesting soon. Hopefully, it was interesting already, but it was somewhat of an introduction. I tend to start stories a bit slowly.

Thank you for reading! Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

"Are receiving lines always so _boring?_" Yuffie asked in a loud whisper.

Aerith looked at her and smiled. She remembered her own coming out ball and the receiving line to go with it. She'd expected it to be a bit more climactic, but then, she'd enjoyed it anyway. She liked people, and she liked watching people come in with all their fine lace and sparkling jewelry, watching the way they acted—it was amazing how a new setting and a finer set of clothes could change a person's entire demeanor.

But she understood Yuffie's boredom, of course. Her youngest sister didn't quite share her interest in people's actions and motivations, but she loved her all the same. "Generally, yes," she whispered back. "But it'll be worth it, for the dancing later on."

Yuffie rose her eyebrows, crossing her arms in a rather unladylike pose. "It had better be. This seems like a terribly high price to pay for a bit of dancing."

Aerith smiled and glanced ahead of them, to see if anyone else was just arriving. The doorway was empty, and she looked back at her sister. "Well, just be glad you're the youngest, and you don't have to stand in line with your sisters at their balls. After tonight, you'll never have to stand in a receiving line again—until you're a hostess, of course."

Yuffie gave a deep sigh. " I don't think I ever want to be a hostess. When I get married—if I get married—I just...won't have any balls."

At this point, Elmyra interrupted the conversation from Yuffie's other side. "Hush, girls!" she scolded, arching her brows. "Yuffie, if anyone heard you, you'd sound a very ungrateful debutante, and I doubt you'd be invited to anyone else's social gatherings. And giving balls is a social obligation of a married woman."

"Well, then I'll marry an antisocial man, who...won't let me have any balls!" Yuffie replied.

Elmyra simply shook her head and gave a disapproving sigh.

Aerith stifled a giggle with her gloved hand and glanced at Tifa on her other side. They'd both heard this conversation and variations of it on numerous occasions. Tifa had a sly look in her eyes as she glanced at the bright colored bouquet in Yuffie's hand. "Yuffie, isn't that Reno's bouquet you have there? You know, he's a rather social man. Why, when he called yesterday, I believe he said he was bringing at least three friends with him from the city, where they go to many balls and parties together."

Yuffie blushed. "I liked the colors. It has nothing to do with him personally. All the rest of the bouquets were white, and I liked this one. I would have chosen the same if it were from Father, or Mr. Highwind, or...Mr. Valentine, for heaven's sake!"

"And it has nothing to do with the fact that he's been saying for weeks how glad he is that you're finally coming out in society, so he can have someone lively to dance with?"

"He was joking!" Yuffie protested. "He says that sort of thing all the time. And anyway, he's hardly even been around. He's always running off to the city."

Aerith noted that Yuffie didn't sound entirely happy at this fact and glanced at her sister's still red cheeks. She gave a small smile. She knew what it was to have...an attachment. Always wondering if he'd come by again soon, if he felt the same way, or if he'd just pack one day and never, ever come back. Her smile faltered, but she took a breath, smoothed her pale pink skirt, and looked back at Yuffie. In any case, she knew that teasing about these sort of things could be unpleasant, whether her sister really had feelings for Reno or not. She hurried to ask a question before another remark was made. "Is Reno bringing Rude with him, then? And Tseng?"

Tifa nodded. "Those two, yes, and he said something about Rude's sister, I believe—a Miss Elena. Apparently, she's very beautiful and quite accomplished."

Aerith glanced at Yuffie's face, to see if this news dismayed her. Her expression seemed remarkably guarded, but just in case, she turned to Elmyra in an attempt to change the subject, but didn't get the chance.

The crew of them came through the doorway, Reno first, striding in with an eager expression, followed closely by a more somber Rude, with Tseng and the woman they supposed was Miss Elena trailing behind.

"Mrs. Locksborough," Reno said, shaking Elmyra's hand firmly, "might I offer my congratulations on getting another daughter out in society?"

"You may, and thank you." Elmyra gave a serene smile, and Aerith almost laughed. Their mother told them time and again that she often thought they shouldn't really be associating with Reno, that he'd grown up to become quite a wild young man with all his city friends, but she never held to her resolve.

He glanced back at his entourage then and smiled. "And these are my guests," he said. "You've met Rude and Tseng, and this is Rude's sister, Miss Elena," he indicated the blonde woman who gave a small smile.

They all bowed and were bowed back to, before Reno moved on to Yuffie and took her hand with a grin. "Miss Locksborough, might I say you look ravishing this evening?" He glanced down at the bright flowers in her hand then and gave a lopsided smile. "Lovely bouquet. Might I ask who sent it?"

Aerith turned to Tifa and shook her head. Personal comments were not to be expected and not really proper to give, but Reno _would_ give them.

Tifa smiled back. "He'll never change," she whispered.

"No," Aerith agreed. He'd always be the silly boy next door that they'd grown up with, with the bright red hair and ridiculous grin. "He seems to be acquiring more of a taste for flattery, though."

"And city people," Tifa added, as Reno was ushered forward by the growing crowd and his friends were left standing awkwardly alone. Rude nodded at Yuffie and muttered a short, "How do you do?" before moving past. He stopped in front of Tifa at the end of the line and seemed to consider saying something to her, but in the end just followed after Reno.

Tifa looked at Aerith dubiously, not entirely sure what it was all about—though she had an idea.

Aerith glanced backward at the swiftly retreating man and giggled. "You know, if Yuffie's really looking for an antisocial husband, he'd do much better than Reno. You could just sort of switch his interest over from you to her."

Tifa laughed. "We'll have to mention it to her."

Elena went by next, with a few passing comments on the number and beauty of Yuffie's bouquets around the room, and Tseng wished Yuffie all the best luck in the season. He stopped in front of Aerith before passing by and smiled at her. "Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Miss Aerith?" he asked.

She smiled back at him. "Yes, very much," she replied. "Thank you for asking."

He nodded and moved past into the ballroom.

Tifa nudged her arm a moment later. "Look," she said, indicating the direction he'd gone.

She looked and spotted him joining with Elena, who'd apparently been waiting for him and was regarding Aerith with a not quite pleasant gaze.

"I don't think Yuffie has any competition for Reno," Tifa whispered, "no matter how beautiful or accomplished she might be, but apparently you have competition for Tseng."

Aerith looked at her and laughed loudly. "You know I'm not any more interested in Tseng than you are in Rude. He's a nice man, but Miss Elena has nothing to worry about from me. He's not my type."

"You know, Mother will probably tell us we ought to just marry them—city husbands are better than _no_ husbands."

"Because we're getting so old." Aerith giggled.

Tifa crossed her arms and rose her eyebrows. "_You_ are," she said in a haughty tone. "I'm in the flower of my youth."

Aerith laughed again. "Youth is a swiftly fading flower, sister. Not to say you're not still beautiful, of course. I've always thought you were one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, dear, believe me." She paused half a second before having a thought and grabbing Tifa's arm abruptly. "What about Johnny?"

Tifa looked at her. "I haven't seen him in ages. And anyway, he's just...not my type."

"Well, apparently we're in the same boat," Aerith commented. "We can be old maids together. I know it might sound distasteful, but you know old maids always get to be eccentric and strange, and nobody thinks anything of it. It could be quite refreshing."

Tifa smiled. "I'm not sure I'm completely ready to give up on marriage yet." She pursed her lips, getting a thoughtful expression on her face. "But I could play my piano...and you could have your books. I could care for my horses, and Yuffie wouldn't try to ride them to death. You could garden all you wanted."

Aerith smiled back at her. It wasn't a bad idea, really, entering into this old maid state. She'd spent a large part of her childhood daydreaming about weddings and a fairy tale sort of love, but in the end, what did she really need besides a sister? "See, everything would work out wonderfully."

"And we'll never let a man get between us?" Tifa asked with a laugh.

She shook her head. "Of course not. What are men compared to sisters?"

"I wouldn't know," Tifa replied, "but probably not much."

"Oh, definitely not. They can be sweet, of course, but it's nothing compared to—" She jumped when someone grabbed her hands and found Shera Highwind in front of her.

"Aerith, dear, I've something to tell you," she said. "I thought you should be the first to know. And you might as well hear, too, Tifa," she said, glancing over at her.

"Shera, what is it?" she asked immediately, noting the worried look on the woman's face. "Is something wrong?" She hadn't even noticed the Highwinds coming in, but now she spotted Cid speaking to Yuffie, saying something about how he supposed she'd turned out all right. It seemed like too light of discussion for there to be any real trouble about.

"It's something we heard in town...about the Fair Estate," Shera said. "Apparently someone else is moving in there. A bachelor, from the sounds of it. It almost sounded like he owned the place, though I wouldn't think the Fairs would sell the estate that was endowed to their son."

Aerith took in a sharp breath and let it slowly back out. Memories flooded her mind, of bright blue eyes, dark hair that would never stay in place, so many smiles and laughs. Now someone else would be at the Fair Estate, sitting where he sat, eating in his dining room, living his life? It seemed unbearable.

"Aerith, are you alright?" Tifa asked from beside her. "You look pale."

She glanced at her sister's brown, worried eyes and took another breath. Zack was gone. She'd missed him for years and mourned his death, but the fact of the matter was that he'd lived his life, and now she had to live hers. She'd made up her mind to let him go a long time ago.

"I'm fine," she said after a moment, looking first at Tifa and then Shera. "Mr. Fair and I...well, we were never all that serious," she said, with a reassuring smile. "I mean, I missed him. I missed him a lot, but there's nothing to be done about it but move on, and...I'm glad the estate is going to be lived in again," she said with a new determination. "I wish the best for whoever it is that's taken it, and I do hope he gets the place looking alive again. It can't be good for a house to be so desolate. I don't want it to end up like Shinra Manor, a ghost of a place."

"But I hear that's being lived in now, too," Shera said with interest.

Aerith nodded. "You can ask Yuffie all about it."

"And is this Mr. Valentine actually going to appear tonight?"

She glanced at Tifa and smiled. "Well, he was asked, at any rate. Father didn't have much of a choice in the matter. He figured it would be better to let Yuffie have her way and redeem her reputation than let Mr. Valentine's impression of her always be the way she rode onto his estate like a madwoman and emptied her stomach out on it."

Shera laughed and was joined shortly by her husband. "Now you two, don't let your sister have all the fun tonight," Cid said to them, eyeing them both seriously. "She'll probably end up killing herself one way or another, so I'd advise you to steal any of her beaus that catch your eye."

They all laughed, and Shera took his arm. "Now come on, dear. We'll leave the girls to their receiving."

When the Highwinds were gone into the ballroom, the girls exchanged glances. "Interesting news, about the Fair Estate," Tifa said.

Aerith nodded, thoughtful. The number of eligible bachelors in the area seemed to be going up by the day. She hadn't expected one to land in the Fair Estate, though. She supposed she ought to have expected it sooner or later. It had been five years. "I wonder what his name is," she said softly.

* * *

Yuffie, finally escaping the boring discussions of stuffy old people, was faced with a difficult decision: Reno or Vincent Valentine?

She wanted to dance with Reno. Other people had been dancing for half an hour while she was forced to skip from old person to old person, and it just wasn't fair. She'd been eyeing Reno all night, and she was fairly certain he'd been eyeing her back for at least some of it. Now he was standing by the champagne, talking to Tifa _right over there_, and she just knew if she went over, he'd ask her to dance.

On the other hand, Mr. Valentine was sitting alone in the far corner of the room, and it seemed like an excellent time to pester him. When he came in earlier, the only thing he'd said to her was, "Miss Locksborough," while making a slight bow. She thought it was the height of bad form and meant to tell him so. Also, he seemed to just generally hold a sort of mysterious allure, seated so antisocially in the corner.

Not that she found Vincent Valentine alluring. If he wasn't some kind of mass murderer with all that dark clothing, he was still old—_at_ _least_ forty. He was probably getting decrepit. And he'd worn a red cape to the ball. A _red cape_. Red capes were not in fashion this season, if they'd _ever_ been in fashion. Maybe a hundred years ago, but definitely not now. Ancient men with no sense of fashion were definitely not alluring.

Still, she found herself moving towards him rather definitively. She supposed she could dance with Reno any time tonight, and who knew when Mr. Valentine might just get up and walk out the door? She could see him doing that. He had a flair for the dramatic; she could tell. _Red cape._ Who did he think he was, anyway?

"Mr. Valentine," she said when she stopped in front of him, in what she considered to be a most amiable tone. "You seem to be especially enjoying this corner of the room. Is it any of the particular furnishings, or would any dark, secluded place do?"

He looked at her in a way that made her want to squirm. Not that he was especially disapproving or even haughty; he was just so _blank. _She felt like there was some kind of great chasm of nothingness between them, separating them forever—only that made it sound almost romantic, which it wasn't.

What she really meant was that the silence made her uncomfortable. She sat down beside him and talked. "It is a sort of nice corner, I suppose. I mean, it took a long time to decorate. I mean, not specifically _this_ corner, but the room in general took a long time to decorate, so I suppose this corner was given just as much attention as any other corner—and any other, you know, tiny, square inch area—so it's just as well that you sat here as anywhere else in the room."

He blinked.

She sighed and leaned against the table they were sitting next to. "Are you always so silent and taciturn, Mr. Valentine? It does seem to fit you, in a way, though it also seems a bit rude. When you came in, you could have _at least_ said 'how do you do?' like every other civilized person did when they went by."

He looked at her, and this time his face did seem to have some semblance of emotion—guilt, or at least a vague concern that he might have done something wrong. "I'm sorry if I offended you, Miss Locksborough. There were a number of people behind me, and I thought it best to move by as quickly as I could, so as to be out of the way."

"Oh, so you do speak!" Yuffie exclaimed, leaning toward him. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd just dreamt whatever you said to me earlier, but I really didn't think I could imagine anything so deep and droning."

He barely lifted an eyebrow at her, but she felt her face color immediately. Thus far, she'd been...obnoxious towards him, but not overtly so. Well, maybe slightly overtly, but—he deserved it for sitting there all alone like he was trying to blend into the wallpaper! Red cape indeed. Even so, she thought it best to change the subject, and searched for one Elmyra would approve of. "Do you have family, Mr. Valentine?" she asked after a moment. "Is anyone coming to join you at Shinra, or living in Midgar City still?"

"No," he answered quickly, "there's no one. Not anymore."

"Not anymore?" she asked, confused and intrigued. "What's that supposed to mean?" Had he murdered them all in their sleep and then fled to the countryside to escape the law? She could have told him that was a bad idea. His family would probably come back as ghosts and haunt him at Shinra Manor. Shinra Manor was full of ghosts; she was certain of it, and Mr. Valentine was exactly the sort of man she would expect to be haunted by ghosts. "Well?" she asked, when she noticed him staring at her.

He shook his head slightly. "It means they're gone. I have nothing else to say about it."

"Oh," said Yuffie. "Well, good. It was probably upsetting anyway, and this is my first ball, and I certainly don't want to sit around talking about upsetting things. What about Shinra? Have you seen any more evidence of it's being haunted? You've been there for one more day now."

"Any..._more _evidence?"

"Well, I told you it was haunted, and I would know. You can count my word as evidence. Anything else you discover about it is merely an affirmation of what you already knew from me." She smiled at him. Despite his probably being a murderer and his definitely being a strange and disagreeable man, she was beginning to think she liked this Mr. Vincent Valentine. His long and prolonged silences allowed her to say just what she wanted to him. And she was still convinced he was involved in some sort of mysterious, probably ghostly situation that she was just dying to know more about.

He looked at her for a long moment before speaking. "Miss Locksborough...just how much time have you spent at Shinra Manor?"

Before she could answer, they were interrupted by Reno crossing the room to speak to her. "Miss Locksborough," he said jovially, taking her hand, "would you care to join me in the next dance?"

She'd barely said yes before he reeled her onto the dance floor, where she was forced to throw her arm over his shoulder before she toppled over. The dance was a quick waltz that she'd only learned a few weeks ago, usually with Aerith or Tifa stepping in as the lead. She'd often found herself stepping on, tripping over, and generally injuring their feet in any way possible. With Reno, though, it seemed a bit easier. He might have had a mischievous grin on his face, but he kept a steady arm guiding her.

"So," he said, "how are you enjoying your new life in society as an accomplished young woman?"

"Oh, very well," she replied, smiling and speaking in her most genteel tone—she'd been practicing this— "for the most part, anyway."

"But not all the greeting everyone, speaking to old people, generally being shown around like a prized animal brought to market?" Reno asked, grinning at her. "I know you too well."

Yuffie straightened her posture, squaring her jaw. She didn't know what to say to this. A lady ought to never let on that she was anything but eternally gracious to—well, everyone, it seemed. She didn't feel especially more gracious than she'd ever been before, but she wanted Reno to see that she wasn't a child anymore. She was grown up, and...she _was_ a lady. "I didn't say—"

"But it's all over your face. Don't worry. For the first few months, everyone watches you like hawks, but they get over it. You do something foolish, show you're not quite the miracle debutante they wanted, and they'll leave you alone—aside from the usual gossip, of course."

"I'm sure you would know all about doing something foolish, _Reno_." She put special emphasis on his name. Elmyra always said how improper it was that he and his city friends went by their first names. Personally, she thought it would have been much easier to be called Yuffie than to have three Miss Locksboroughs always being confused with each other, but she enjoyed throwing it in Reno's face that he was on the fringe of society.

"I'm sure I would," he agreed heartily. "So how are you really enjoying your new life in society as an accomplished young woman?"

She sighed. He was right—he knew her too well. But she supposed that wasn't_ necessarily _a bad thing. She liked being herself considerably more than she liked being a proper young lady, and if he liked it as well, then—well, they were practically married already. _"_It's been terribly boring so far. Mother insisted on introducing me to so many people I don't give a whit about! I thought I'd lose my mind, it was so dull."

He grinned his usual ridiculous grin. "That's more like the Yuffie I know."

At that precise moment, she stepped the wrong way and tripped over his foot, nearly slamming them both into the champagne table in the process. Oh yes, he _definitely_ wanted to marry her now. She looked up at him, embarrassed, but not _so_ embarrassed. This _was_ the Yuffie he knew—and the one she preferred to be.

"And even more so," he said, shaking his head as he put her back on her feet. "To change the subject, who was that fellow you were speaking to before I came over?"

"Mr. Vincent Valentine," she replied, glancing backward at the man. He was still sitting where she left him, still in black, and still not speaking to anyone. He did seem to be watching them, though, which she found slightly disturbing. Maybe he wanted to marry her, too, and was planning on murdering Reno to have her. She could see him doing it. Except that he was old and decrepit and probably couldn't move that fast. "He just moved into Shinra Manor—you know, with all the ghosts. I think it's highly intriguing, even if he doesn't seem to want to talk about anything at all."

"Valentine, eh?" Reno asked, leading them towards the man to get a better glance. "The name sounds familiar. He might have moved in similar circles...a long time ago, though. Never met him personally, but I believe he was known at Shinra's Gentlemen's Club—hardly any relation to the Manor, just owned by the family a long time ago, but none of them have wanted to live there for ages," he clarified, noticing the sudden gleam of interest in her eyes.

"Well, you should find out about him for me," Yuffie commanded. "I'm dying to know about his dark and mysterious past."

"I will if you go riding with me like we used to. Name a day, any day. I am at your leisure—at least this week while I'm here. Tseng and Rude might want to get back to the city after that...and Elena for sure, but I'm determined to stay at least for a ride with you."

"We haven't rode together since I was thirteen, and you know Mother won't let me go unchaperoned like that again."

"Yes, but she doesn't have to know, does she?" He gave a sly smile, voice smooth.

She smiled, but before she could say anything, Tseng approached them, tapping on Reno's shoulder urgently. He gave a brief bow to her before whispering to Reno. She looked away, annoyed. Tseng _would _interrupt them, just when things were getting interesting. For all his being one of Reno's "wild city friends," he had a habit of being rather responsible.

She looked around and noticed another man in the doorway, clearly from the city, and definitely not anyone she'd received earlier. He was blonde and had a dignified, all business look to him. Reno's head jerked around to look at him, before he whispered something back to Tseng, who turned and went on his way.

"Yuffie, listen," Reno said when Tseng was gone. "I have to go back to Midgar City."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him. He was always having to go back to Midgar City, usually on similar "urgent business." And usually, he didn't come back for months. Not that she _really_ cared, but it was rather rude of him to leave in the middle of her ball, and now that she was old enough to have a reason for snubbing someone, she was growing quite fond of the idea.

"Yuffie, I'm serious," he said, grabbing her shoulders and turning her back toward him. He let go when he noticed a few people looking at them and lowered his voice. "You can't tell anyone—I don't want to ruin your ball, but Shinra's Gentlemen's Club—the one I just told you about—the president is dead, and it doesn't quite look like an accident."

She started and looked at him more seriously. "What?" she asked in a loud whisper. "You mean like a murder?"

"That is what a non accident would be, yes. His son, Rufus, is over there, and I'm sure he can take over the club for him, but he wants to get to the bottom of this, and he's asking us for help."

"So you're leaving?" She crossed her arms, frowning at him. He was probably making this up. He'd made up ridiculous stories before, and she was a fool to think he really cared anything about her. And she definitely didn't care about him. He was becoming a city person, and she'd decided long ago to shun all city people she came into contact with.

"I'll be back," he called to her, already walking away, "You promised me that ride, right?"

She said nothing and walked a few paces away and sat down by one of the tables, watching Reno go out the door with all his friends following. She considered riding over to his estate tomorrow and stealing something from him. It didn't really matter what, but it would serve him right for being so rude to her.

Unexpectedly, she noticed Mr. Valentine by her. He was standing now instead of sitting in his corner. She eyed him suspiciously, wondering what could have possessed him to move. Maybe he really did want to marry her and noticed his chances going up when Reno left.

"Miss Locksborough," he said, "I couldn't help but overhear—your friend, he mentioned—a Mr. Shinra?"

"Murdered," she replied, shrugging, "apparently." She remembered then that Reno told her not to tell anyone. She looked at Mr. Valentine. He really didn't really count as anyone—who would he spread the news to, anyway? He didn't have any friends. She looked at him again and frowned. "Why are you so interested anyway? Are you going to fly after them and solve the mystery with your magical red cape?"

She stood up abruptly and walked away, leaving him standing alone as usual.

* * *

This took ridiculously longer than I meant it to, but it was a bit longer, and I'm hoping to start going quicker now. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I'm hoping you'll enjoy (and review) this one as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Aerith stood with her face tilted up to the sun, feeling the warmth spread down her outstretched arms, to her fingertips, all the way to her toes. She smiled, softly, closing her eyes. Sometimes, she just needed to breathe, to slow down and drink in the sunlight.

When she opened her eyes, the fields to either side of her were still golden with flowers, the sky was still brilliant overhead, the sun was still shining down on her. And she smiled. She walked on down the dirt road, dust kicking up around her feet. Her petticoat would be filthy when she got home, but she didn't mind.

She quickened her pace when she spotted the gray wall in the middle of the field, and when she came abreast to it, she paused, glancing to either side and all around her. Assured that no one was coming, she lifted her skirt above her ankles and darted into the long grass and flowers.

She ran all the way to the crumbling wall, the flowers brushing against her skin like touches of freedom. When she reached the wall, she leaned back against it, breathing hard. She felt like she was dying and wondered for a moment why corsets had ever been invented. But she'd be alright.

After taking in a few long, deep breaths, she looked around with a more meticulous gaze. The wall was made of stone, the remains of an older building—a chapel, maybe a castle; she liked to imagine it as a grand building, something glorious. Now, though, it was just one wall, with a few stray stones spreading off perpendicular to it. Thick vines with spreading leaves covered it in a blanket of green and all around the wild flowers grew gold.

On this particular side, though, she was trying to grow other things. Delphiniums, foxglove, roses. They were springing up in various patches, airy whites, blues, purples, and pinks. She'd found the wall when she was fifteen, three miles south from the Locksborough Estate, and it had seemed so free, so far removed from everything she knew, and she loved it.

It seemed like, for the first time, here at her pale gray wall, under the sunlight, she could have her own little piece of happiness. It wasn't that she was unhappy in other places, or that she terribly minded sharing with other people, but this—this was _hers_. And she made things grow here, bright petals springing out like fairy wings in picture books, and they came out of the ground because of _her_ hands working for them, and sometimes she took them home to Elmyra, or gave them to the Highwinds, or just passed them on to anyone she saw on the road and let them share a little bit of her happiness.

Finally catching her breath, she took a few steps around her oddly placed garden, letting her fingers slide across the silky petals. She picked a pale pink rose and held it to her nose, before getting the distinct feeling that she was being watched. The grass behind her was moving, and not with the wind. It had a sharper, crunching sound.

She whirled around quickly and spotted an unruly head of hair and a black overcoat. He turned and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes—they looked like the sky, like...Zack's eyes, long ago. For a moment, she could pretend he _was_ Zack, all bright eyes and teasing grins, and she had to stop herself from going over to him and touching his hand, his shoulders, his—she blushed—lips.

He shifted awkwardly, and she was reminded that he wasn't Zack. He didn't even look like Zack. His hair was blonde, and he had a smaller frame. He didn't know her.

She realized she was staring—gaping—and the poor man must have felt terribly awkward about the whole thing. She left her flowers and came towards him, putting a smile on her face. He was a nice looking man, actually, if a bit nervous.

"Hello," she said. "It's lovely weather for a walk out here, isn't it?"

He made a vague sort of nod. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"Oh, you weren't intruding," she said. "No one owns this land. I just come out here to walk and be with the flowers, but anyone can do that."

He said nothing, but took a few steps, eyes roaming over the flowers—first the yellow ones of the field, then the more colorful ones she'd planted.

She took a few steps after him, watching his movements. He had the tense, calculated posture of a military man, but he stepped, then paused, stepped, then paused like he had no idea what he was doing. "I'm Aerith," she said after a moment, trying to create some semblance of normalcy about their meeting, for both their sakes. "Aerith Locksborough."

His eyes flicked back to her for a moment, and he seemed like he was processing this information, memorizing and storing it somewhere in his mind. "Cloud Strife," he said after a moment, nodding at her. She noticed that he stood up straighter when he said his name, like there was some confidence to be had in just the sound of it.

She smiled. "Do you live near here, Mr. Strife, or are you only visiting the area?"

"I just moved in," he said, "to the Fair Estate. It's over..." he looked around with a blank gaze before waving his hand to the right, "that way."

Aerith had to stifle a giggle, because she knew for a fact that the Fair Estate was not where he pointed, quite the opposite actually, but she didn't correct him. She only smiled, then pursed her lips because he'd said _Fair _Estate and for the first time she hadn't thought of Zack and wanted to cry when she heard it. She wasn't sure whether that was good or bad.

"I live around here, too," she said after a moment, trying to keep up the conversation. "About three miles north down the road. We'll be neighbors." She smiled again, feeling somewhat invigorated at her own words. "We'll have to visit each other."

He made another head bob, and she wondered if this was at all similar to Yuffie's initial conversation with Mr. Valentine. Knowing Yuffie, though, it was probably rather different.

"Do you have family, Mr. Strife?"

He shook his head definitively. "No." He paused. "Do you?"

She nodded and couldn't help another smile, stronger this time. She loved her family, all of them, _so_ much. "Yes. My mother and father and two sisters and I all live together. I'm sure they'll be pleased to meet you too, when we visit. But you'll have to let us know when you're settled in; we don't want to invade your home before you've made it your own."

He made a brief grunting sound.

She watched him another moment and considered what she could say to him. She wanted to ask why he was moving into the Fair Estate, if it was let to him or if he owned it, but it wasn't polite conversation. "Well, I do hope you enjoy living here, in the countryside. I think it's quite pleasant. We have nice weather, and kind neighbors, and it's just lovely for walking about."

When he said nothing yet again, she went to the flowers he was looking at and picked a few of them, making a small bouquet which she held out to him. "Take these home," she said, smiling. "It'll brighten things up for you, make your estate seem more like home."

He looked at the flowers and reached out a hesitant hand to take them. "Thank you," he said. The corners of his mouth lifted just a tiny bit, which she took to be a smile, and she smiled back even wider. After a moment, he shifted, glancing around again like he didn't know what to do with himself. "I should be going. Will you be able to get home all right?"

This time she couldn't help but giggle. "Oh, I don't know. I'm not sure I can manage the same walk I took to get here all over again. I might need help."

He stared at her blankly, which made her laugh louder.

"Yes, I can make it—Mr. Strife." She had an odd desire to call him Cloud, even though they'd barely spent ten minutes not really becoming familiar with each other at all. It just seemed...like there was something about him that held the possibility of familiarity, the idea of a connection, that his blank stares and tense, ultimately awkward stance could be the things she remembered and smiled about whenever she thought of him afterward.

"All right," he said. "It was...nice to meet you, Miss Locksborough." He turned then and began ambling away through the field, to the right as he'd told her the Fair Estate was.

She watched him with a smile. "It was nice meeting you too, Mr. Strife," she called after him when he was a few ten feet away, "but you're going the wrong way!"

He stopped abruptly and turned around, slowly making his way back to her. He ran one hand through his messy blonde hair, his cheeks turning pink.

"Why don't we walk to the road together?" she suggested when he stopped in front of her. "Then you can go your way, I'll go mine, and we both should end up at home before too long."

He nodded but didn't move. She took a step first and another, then glanced back at him. He followed behind her and after a few steps was at her side. A few more and he was starting to pass her and before long he seemed to have left her behind all together as she struggled to quicken her pace. Apparently, she was not quite as recovered from her run as she'd thought, and she wasn't eager to be so short of breath again.

"A little slow, aren't you?" he asked, as he stopped to wait for her. He spoke quietly, and the smile on his face was only half way there, like he was hesitant to tease her. He looked in all like a child asking for something he wasn't sure he'd receive.

She smiled and shook her head at him. "Walking slow makes me appear more graceful," she said, holding her head high with a haughty air. "And less liable to faint," she added on in her normal tone. "Believe me, I know from experience."

He said nothing, but kept his pace slow enough for her to keep up with as they made their way through the tall grass. On the road they both stopped, glancing at each other. She smiled at him, amiably, before glancing down the road. "_Now_ if you go right, you'll get to your estate, in about...two miles, I think."

He nodded. "Thank you, again." He glanced at the flowers in his hand and gave a very small smile, more like a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

She nodded back at him. "Your welcome." They stared at each other again, awkwardly, and finally she smiled and made a short bow. "Good day, Mr. Strife."

He bowed back. "Good day, Miss Locksborough."

She turned left and walked down the road; she could hear his footsteps heading the opposite way. She walked for a few moments before glancing backward. His head was turned toward her, blue eyes watching, but he quickly jerked back the other way. She kept walking and smiled to herself as she went on her way.

* * *

Tifa let her fingers slide over the ivory piano keys. The notes flowed together, higher tones cascading over the deeper chords. It wasn't quite perfect. Her right hand moved faster than her left and threw the rhythm slightly off. Still, playing was therapeutic, calming.

She glanced backward where Godo was sitting on the settee discussing politics with Mr. Barret Wallace, their neighbor from Avalanche Creek, an estate to the southwest, near the Highwinds. Mr. Wallace was a good friend of Godo's and always up for tea and politics, which he discussed with great vigor.

"Those suits in the city don't know what they're talking about!" he said, slamming his teacup down on Elmyra's fine china saucer. Tifa winced at the sound, hoping it wouldn't break. It didn't, and he went on, "They've never worked a day in their life, and they claim to know what's best for everyone."

Godo nodded. "The city is no good for anyone. People get high and mighty airs, living there—people who have no business having them. What they all need is a day in the country, seeing what honest, hardworking people do. And I don't mean that we all need to personally do farm work, but young men these days don't seem to oversee any of their own business. When I was young..."

Tifa turned back to the piano. It would be a long conversation, no doubt. Godo could go on for days about when he was young. She glanced at Yuffie who was sitting in a chair next to the piano, cracking her knuckles. "Yuffie, don't," she whispered. "It's not becoming."

Yuffie looked up and sighed. "But I'm so _bored. _And I'm tired of hearing about useless people in the city. We all know they're useless, so why can't we just move on with our lives?"

Tifa smiled. "I know. But it makes them feel better to discuss it thoroughly."

"They're probably just trying to make us die of boredom. I say we inconspicuously remove ourselves from the room and go riding instead."

Tifa stopped playing, letting her hands fall to her lap and stay still. She waited. One, two...

"Tifa, keep playing," Godo commanded from his seat on the settee. "You can't be tired yet. You haven't played half an hour. I like hearing you."

She raised her hands back to the piano keys and looked at Yuffie. "I think we would be conspicuous," she said.

Yuffie sighed and leaned back in her seat. "What a slave driver," she muttered.

Tifa kept playing. She didn't mind terribly. She would have liked to go riding with Yuffie, but she liked playing the piano, too. And she needed the practice, if she was going to get any better. At times, though, she did wish that if Godo made her play, he actually listened to her. It sometimes seemed like he just wanted her to play background music as he went about his life.

"Tifa, could you teach me how to play?" This was a smaller voice, higher in pitch and much less confident. Tifa glanced down to see Marlene, Barret's adopted daughter, on her other side. She'd been playing with her doll on the floor earlier and was now standing with her hands on the piano bench, face tilted up to look at Tifa with wide eyes.

Tifa couldn't help a smile. "Of course, sweetheart. Come sit." She patted the space on the bench next to her and watched as the small girl climbed up and settled herself, before reaching upward to finger the white and black keys.

Yuffie sighed again. "And now we're having piano lessons along with the politics. I knew I should have gone out with Aerith."

Tifa glanced at her sister, then shook her head, turning back to Marlene. "Put your fingers here," she said, moving the girl's small hands to middle C. "Put one finger on each key, and keep your fingers curled a little, so you can move them easily."

"Like this?" Marlene asked, her fingers carefully positioned.

She smiled. The girl looked like she was going to claw at the piano. "Close," she said, "but relax your wrists a little, like this." She showed Marlene the way she played and watched her adjust. "Good." She paused then and bit her lip. She didn't actually know how to teach anyone to play the piano, and she didn't know what she could possibly teach a five year old.

The girl was watching with wide, admiring eyes.

"Let's start with a simple scale," Tifa said after a moment. "Now what you're going to do is play the first three keys, then move your thumb to the next key and play all the rest of them that you're fingers are on." She demonstrated the movement with her own fingers on a lower key.

Marlene scrunched up her mouth in concentration and pressed down on the first key, second, third—she paused for a long moment, then moved her thumb over the long stretch to the fourth key and played the rest.

Tifa clapped her hands. "Good!" she said, glancing back at Mr. Wallace. She knew he'd want to see this. He adored Marlene. It was one of the things she admired most about him, how he was raising the girl. She was his niece, actually, but both her parents had died in a tragic accident. It was expected that he would send money to see to her upbringing, but no one expected him to actually raise her himself like he was doing, treating her—and loving her—like she was his own.

She saw that he was watching, and smiling, but when she looked at him, his eyes turned to her. He smiled, a different sort of smile. She turned away quickly, biting her lip. She remembered now that everyone said he needed a wife, someone to be a mother for Marlene—and she was teaching the girl to play the piano!

She hoped he didn't get the wrong idea. Sometimes, she suspected if she gave him any sort of encouragement, he might ask her. She didn't want to marry him. It wasn't that she didn't like him—she did, but...he was fifteen years older than her, and it would be so much responsibility to step into. If she married anyone, she wanted...someone young and strong and kind, someone who could take care of _her._

Her panicked thoughts were dispatched by the sound of footsteps in the hallway and Aerith entering the room with a quick glance and smile at everyone. "Hello, Father. Mr. Wallace, Marlene. Girls." She gave an extra long smile to Tifa and Yuffie. "You'll never guess who I met on my walk."

Yuffie started to guess, but Godo interrupted her. "Indeed, we won't, so why don't you just tell us?"

Aerith sighed. "Oh, all right. You're no fun." She smiled again, and Tifa wondered who she could have met that would make her that excited. Mr. Valentine maybe, or Reno, just for the sake of telling Yuffie about it, but Reno was all the way in Midgar, and she wasn't likely to meet Mr. Valentine walking south like Aerith usually did when Shinra Manor was straight east. "His name is Mr. Cloud Strife, and he's the new resident of the Fair Estate."

Everyone was silent, until Yuffie finally asked, "And you're...happy about this?"

"I know it might seem odd, but I am. At first I thought I'd resent anyone living at the Fairs', but he was so...charming. In a terribly awkward way. He didn't say much, but he was kind."

Tifa barely heard her. Her mind was stuck on the name. Cloud Strife. She knew the name. She knew him, once. She remembered that summer at the sea, and the blond boy who followed her around sometimes. They weren't friends, exactly, but they weren't...not friends, either. She talked to him, sometimes. He had so many dreams. Beautiful dreams about...being a hero. She asked him once, if he would come help her if she ever needed anyone. She didn't know why she thought she'd need someone. Sometimes, she just felt so alone. He'd said yes.

Aerith was sitting next to Yuffie now, and Godo was grunting at her. "Well, good. I wouldn't want you being rude to the lad just because he's living there. Now, Mr. Wallace, I think perhaps we should leave these girls to their chatter. Shall we move out?"

Mr. Wallace stood up, nodding. "Yes, I should be going soon anyway. Come on, Marlene."

Marlene sidled off the piano bench, and the three of them walked out the door together. Once they were gone, Yuffie turned to face Aerith more seriously. "So what was he really like?"

Aerith laughed. "He was just what I said. Charming. Awkward. Beautiful."

Yuffie raised an eyebrow at her. "Beautiful?"

"Oh, don't!" Aerith said, hitting her arm playfully. "It's not like that. We've just met. It's nothing. I'm only glad he seems a decent man. I couldn't stand it if someone horrid was living at the Fair Estate." She glanced at Tifa then and raised a puzzled brow. "Tifa, darling, aren't you interested at all? A new bachelor in the area, maybe you won't have to be an old maid after all." She giggled.

Tifa looked at her, trying to pull herself out of her memories. "You said his name was Cloud Strife?"

Aerith nodded, frowning. "Do you...know him?"

Yuffie was staring as well with an interested expression.

Tifa shook her head. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know him, really. "I...met him, once. You remember when I had typhoid?"

Aerith nodded, shuddering. "You were ten, eleven maybe. I was terrified thinking you might die."

She nodded. She'd been terrified too. "Then when I was recovering, I went with Mother to Costa del Sol for the summer. The doctors said the warmer climate and the sea breeze would be good for me. When I was there, I met a boy named Cloud—Cloud Strife. He was there with his mother, I think. She wasn't very well. He...was awkward, like you say he is now, but he was kind, too. We...knew each other, a little." She bit her lip and didn't tell them about the question she'd asked him and how he'd answered. It was ridiculous, really. She was only ten.

"Well," Aerith said, "I'm sure he'll be glad to be reunited with you again. You can pick up where you left off."

She had a funny smile on her curled lips, and Tifa shook her head at her, feeling her face flush. "I knew him when I was ten years old! It was nothing."

Yuffie leaned back in her chair with a long sigh. "Maybe I'll have to marry him then, with both of you sitting here calling him nothing."

Aerith and Tifa both laughed, and at that moment, the door opened and Elmyra came in. "Yuffie, there's a letter for you," she said, holding it out to her youngest daughter. "From Reno."

They all stopped laughing and turned to watch as Yuffie tore open the letter. Inside, there was another sealed paper that tumbled out onto her lap. She glanced at it with a small frown before reading the first. It seemed to be a short letter that she scanned over very briefly before looking up at the rest of them. "I have to visit Mr. Valentine," she announced.

* * *

So I know this chapter didn't have any Yuffie POV parts, and I'm sorry for that, but I felt it was necessary for the subplot, but after this I'll try to always have at least one of the sections in the chapter be from her point of view, as the story is centered around her and Vinnie. And _that_ plot will be advanced next chapter. Thanks for reading; please drop me a line! :D


	4. Chapter 4

The ride to Shinra Manor seemed excruciatingly long today. Yuffie rode as quickly as she could, but it could never be fast enough, especially with Aerith and Tifa beside her. They didn't see the gravity of the situation. She wanted to gallop to Shinra Manor,like her life depended on it, like death was at her heels. But her sisters were riding as if it was a mere visit. Which...it was, but a visit to _Vincent Valentine_. At _Shinra Manor_. It might as well have been life and death.

Yuffie herself was rather upset that she'd been forced to take either of her sisters with her, let alone both of them. She wanted to see Mr. Valentine alone, but a lady simply could not visit an unmarried man by herself. It would be a scandal she'd never hear the end of.

Secretly, she thought it might be an interesting sort of scandal. Everyone would ask what in the world she'd been doing with Mr. Valentine, and she would laugh and say something about how disgusted she was with the very idea of him and her together and then go on to describe the general layout of Shinra Manor. And laugh some more.

But it was not to be. Elmyra had forced Aerith and Tifa to go along with her.

To try and pass the time more quickly, she recited Reno's letter to herself again. She had it all memorized now. Not that it was a very long letter to begin with.

_Yuffie,_ he said. _I have an important task for you._ (What did he think she was, his servant?)

_I may be away longer than I intended._ (Of course. Isn't that how it always went? A little while became a bit longer and a bit longer until she hadn't seen him for months. He might as well have said, _By the way, I probably won't see you again for two years. Have a nice life._)

_But I will be back, I promise. You still owe me that ride, right? Don't forget. I shall be very vexed if __you do. I think of you while I'm away. I miss the way you laugh._ (She did not really feel that she owed him anything at all, but somehow this combination of lines together made her feel like agreeing to everything else he said.)

_In any case, things are rather gruesome here. The murder case is still unresolved and appears quite complicated. Please pass the enclosed letter on to Mr. Valentine._ (This line captured her interest the most. She wanted to see Mr. Valentine again quite dreadfully. He had such a mystery to him. She liked saying his name. Vincent Valentine Vincent Valentine Vincent Valentine – and his possible connection to a murder was the most intriguing of all. She knew there was something strange about him. Hadn't she said so all along? Of course she had.)

_Make sure you give it to him and no one else. Rufus wants to keep this as quiet as possible. And please, don't read it yourself, Yuffie. I know you probably will, or at least you'll want to, but the less you know, the safer you'll be. And I don't want you in any danger. Thank you. _

_ Reno._

She was a bit hurt that he didn't trust her to leave Mr. Valentine's letter alone. Honestly, didn't he know her better than that? Didn't he believe in her basic feminine goodness? She supposed he knew her rather _too_ well for that, but really, she'd only peeked at the letter and then resealed it. She certainly hadn't gathered much.

All she knew was that there was something about someone called Lucrecia and someone called Sephiroth, and it was longer than her own letter, which wasn't fair. Reno had more to say to Vincent Valentine than to her. She really was going to have to steal something from him. Maybe from Mr. Valentine, too.

Shinra Manor was now in sight, and she was struck again by the immense, gothic sort of presence it gave off. She was very satisfied with the fact that she was visiting _Mr. Valentine_ at _Shinra Manor_ about a _murder,_ of all things. It was so perfect she scarcely knew what to do with herself.

She drew her reins with Aerith and Tifa on either side of her and jumped off her horse.

"Doesn't he have anyone working in the stables?" Tifa asked, after a moment of standing awkwardly beside the horses.

Yuffie glanced at her and shrugged. "He probably has the ghosts do it. I don't think the horses will run off, anyway. Betsy seemed quite attached to this grass when we were here before." She patted Betsy with a smile followed by a somewhat wary glance as the horse snorted at her.

"We'll at least tie them," Tifa said, gathering the reins together and leading the horses all over to a nearby tree.

When they finally made their way to the door, Yuffie knocked her fist against the wood as hard as she could manage – it seemed like it would be difficult to hear anything in such an enormous house. "Ouch!" she said, after a minute or so of knocking, rubbing her knuckles. "That hurt. You'd think he'd have the courtesy to open the door before I start bleeding everywhere."

Tifa raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't see any blood."

Aerith giggled, and finally, the door opened. A small man was behind it, with gray hair and glasses and not much else to mark his features. He was just the sort of butler Yuffie supposed Mr. Valentine would have – someone nondescript, to leave no impression whatsoever. "Good afternoon," he said with a slight nod. "May I help you young ladies?"

"We're here to see Mr. Valentine," Yuffie said, impatiently. "It's terribly important."

The butler looked at them a moment longer, then nodded. "Of course. Come in." He stepped aside, and Yuffie was the first in, glancing eagerly around. She'd never actually stepped foot in Shinra Manor before, and she expected to be attacked by ghosts at any minute.

Unfortunately, it didn't happen. But the house was just as enormous and eerie as she'd imagined it, with ceilings high above her head and light streaming down from windows she hadn't even realized were there. The light illuminated tiny particles of dust in the air – and there was a _lot_ of dust. Mr. Valentine certainly hadn't gotten his house very clean since he moved in – but that was to be expected of such a suspicious character.

"Mr. Valentine just moved in here," the butler said, as he led them down a hallway, "so I hope you'll excuse the rather poor upkeep. Mr. Valentine doesn't keep a large staff, and the house has been abandoned so long; it's a lot to get through in a short time."

"Did you come with Mr. Valentine from the city?" Aerith asked, as they made their way down the hall.

Yuffie stopped swiveling her head around and looked at the butler. If he knew Mr. Valentine well, he might be well worth her time. Anything she could find out about Mr. Valentine was worth her time. At the moment, he was the most exciting part of her life, the mysterious part, the intrigue. She wanted to know everything about him.

"Yes," the butler said, "I've known Mr. Valentine since his youth—"

"What's he like?" Yuffie asked, before the butler could say anything else. "Is he always so dreadfully silent?"

The butler glanced back at her with a slight smile. "You're the one coming to visit him. Don't you know?"

Yuffie opened her mouth, but before she could think of a response, he opened a door. "The parlor," he said, nodding to them. "Mr. Valentine will be with you shortly. Make yourselves comfortable."

They were inside with the door shut behind them before Yuffie scarcely knew what was happening. "Well," she said, frowning at the door, "I don't think I like Mr. Valentine's butler. He seemed very short with me, didn't you think?"

"You were prying," Tifa said, glancing around. "Perhaps Mr. Valentine's butler doesn't like you."

Yuffie crossed her arms, preparing to protest, but before she could get out a word, Aerith spoke. "This room is beautiful," she said, turning around slowly.

Yuffie looked around then, frowning. She didn't think Mr. Valentine was capable of having nice rooms. He was too depressing. But...it was rather pretty, she had to admit. There was a settee and a chair across from it with roses embroidered on blue silk cushions, an elegant table with a lace cloth, and fine crystal on the mantelpiece. Light came through the window, which was framed with gauzy curtains that matched the tablecloth perfectly. _Everything_ looked perfect – but there were cobwebs in the corner and dust on the mantel.

"It isn't very clean," Yuffie said, sitting down disdainfully. "You'd think he could at least clean the place if he's going to go to the trouble of living here."

"The butler said he wasn't well staffed," Aerith said.

"Well, I don't see why not. If he has the money to live at Shinra Manor of all places, you'd think he could at least get a decent staff."

"Maybe he doesn't want a decent staff."

"But why? If I had the money to live at Shinra Manor, I'd have a full staff to wait on me hand and foot. There'd be no cobwebs, my crystal would shine, and I'd have people to fan me with peacock feathers and put chocolates in my mouth. Mr. Valentine must be hiding something – something grisly – and I want to find out what it is."

At that precise moment, the door opened, and Yuffie felt her heart pulse once as the said Mr. Valentine walked into the room. Suppose he'd heard her, and he knew she was onto him, and he was going to kill her right here on the settee? She swallowed hard as she glanced at Aerith and Tifa.

"Mr. Valentine," Aerith was the first to speak, coming towards him with the smile. "It's good to see you again so soon." She extended her hand to him, which he took, and they made slight bows to each other.

Yuffie was immensely glad that Aerith had such good social graces. It had been terribly awkward there, for a moment. But now Mr. Valentine was nodding at Tifa, and then he turned to her, forcing a smile that looked rather more like a grimace. "Miss Locksborough," he said, and then looked a bit hesitantly at the other two of them who had now seated themselves on either side of Yuffie on the settee. "And...Miss Locksborough and Miss Locksborough." He paused, and then went on with effort. "I wasn't expecting your visit. Why...are you here?"

Yuffie laughed – loudly. She felt quite comfortable again in the presence of Mr. Valentine's infernal lack of social graces. "Why, Mr. Valentine, you're our neighbor! It's good form to visit neighbors, you know, and since you are our neighbor, we can't neglect you."

He stared at her for a long moment, and then sat down across from the three of them. "I hope you'll pardon the disarray of my house. I'm afraid there hasn't been much time—"

"Oh, stop apologizing," Yuffie interrupted. "The fact that I'm in the Shinra Manor house is enough. It doesn't have to be perfect. You did just move in."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tifa raise an eyebrow at her, but she ignored her. It wasn't as if she _meant_ what she said moments before. It was just something to say. "Anyway, how are you getting on here? Do you find the countryside to your liking? Is the house big enough for you?"

"It's fine," Mr. Valentine said.

And just like that the conversation was over. He certainly was socially inept. It was no wonder he scarcely had a staff. He probably didn't know what to say to them.

"Are...you parents well?" he asked finally, breaking the silence.

"They're fine," she said, deciding to mimic his excellent conversation killing skills. She curled her lips into a smile as he looked at her, hoping to faze him at least a little.

He stared – no emotion, no expression to speak of.

Finally, she sighed and produced the letter from behind her back. "Well, since you seem so loathe to actually speak to me, here," she said, throwing it at him. She felt both Aerith and Tifa elbow her for that, and she squirmed a little, but didn't take her eyes from Mr. Valentine. "Reno sent that to me to give to you. I hope its important, or I shouldn't have bothered coming all this way."

He picked up the letter with a blank expression and unfolded it slowly. She watched his eyes travel back and forth across the page, and if she wasn't mistaken, she saw his jaw tighten just a hair. Good. So he wasn't completely an unemotional ghost of a man.

"Miss Locksborough," he said when he looked back at her, then glanced at Aerith and Tifa and amended his statement, "Miss Yuffie - " She smiled when he said her name; his gravelly voice made it sound important, she thought. "May I speak to you alone – just for a moment?" He glanced at her sisters as if they were the ones he was really asking, and Aerith gave a small nod.

He stood up, and she rolled her eyes. Of course, he just assumed she would say yes. She could very easily say no, and then he'd be standing up for nothing. But...then she wouldn't get to hear what he had to say. "Well, I suppose so," she said, standing up slowly and following him out of the room.

He led her a short way down the hall, and then into another room that she noted was suspiciously empty. "Did you read this?" he asked, turning to face her once they were within the doorway.

"No!" she exclaimed, trying her best to look aghast. "Do you think I go around reading other people's letters?"

One of his eyebrows raised a hair above the other.

She straightened, uncomfortable with his rather knowing expression. "Not much of it. And I could hardly understand any it, anyway. What's it about?" She leaned toward him eagerly.

He glanced at her and shook his head slightly. "My wife...amongst other things."

"Your wife?" she repeated, taking a step backward. "Since when did you have a wife? You never told me you had a wife!"

He stared at her for a long moment, and she placed her hands on her hips, frowning at him. That he could have a wife, of all things, and she had no idea! She threw up on his bushes, while he had a wife. He came to her ball, while she had a wife. She tormented him about his cape and depressiveness, while he had a wife. It was disgusting. If he had a wife, he ought to have told her immediately.

"She...died," he said slowly.

Her hands dropped from her hips. "Oh. I'm sorry." She was sorry, too, more so than she sounded. She wished she could sound more sorry. If she could suddenly get very emotional and start crying in front of him – but no, she was sorrier than that. Sorry for being so obnoxious and rude to him, sorry for being so young and just out in society, when he'd been married and had a dead wife somewhere. Sorry for everything.

"It was a long time ago," he said, and she glanced up at him, narrowing her eyes just a bit. She didn't want to be rude, but...

"How long ago?"

"Over twenty years."

Now she was silent for a moment. That was longer than she'd been alive. It made the whole thing even more tragic because he was so...old. "Well, if it was that long ago, then what's the letter about?"

He looked down at the letter in his hand as if he'd forgotten it existed. When he looked back at her, his left hand was in a fist. "It's complicated."

"I have time." She smiled at him and tried to look as amiable as possible. She was Yuffie Kisaragi Locksborough, an innocent young girl, someone he could trust, someone he could poor out his long, complicated, depressing story to.

He shook his head in a far too decisive manner. "I don't want to trouble you with it. I'm going to have to leave."

She stopped smiling in an instant. "What do you mean, leave?" 'Leave' was a word she'd heard far too recently.

"I have to go back to the city. I wanted to stay here and live...peacefully. But I'll have to deal with this first."

"Deal with what?" Yuffie pressed, feeling like she might explode with curiosity. "The murder? Were you involved with it?"

He gave her an odd glance. "I didn't kill Mr. Shinra."

"Well, obviously. You were here then. I talked to you the night before. I threw up on your bushes. And then you came to my ball. You wouldn't have had time to go back to the city and kill someone. But are you...involved?"

He stared at her for a moment. "Not directly, but...something happened, a long time ago. I need to set things right."

Well, that was about the vaguest answer she'd ever heard. He stared for another moment, but not at her. When his eyes finally cleared, he looked at her and shook his head slightly. "I'll be leaving as soon as possible." He started for the doorway, and for a moment she stood stationary.

Then she couldn't stand it. "But—you're going to leave? Just like Reno?" It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. He'd only just arrived. He couldn't leave now.

He turned back and gave her a certain glance – apologetic, it seemed, like he was crushing a little girl's dream. "Miss Locksborough," he said, "we're only neighbors. You won't miss me."

She flushed suddenly. "I only meant – things will be awfully dull around here. Not that you were particularly interesting anyway, but...at least there was something diverting about the change from the usual company." When he kept watching her, she bit her lip. "It's just not fair. Everyone goes to the city and leaves me all alone. I want to go with you." She realized that was not quite something she should say and she shook her head. "Well, I mean...I want to go to the city. Not _with you_ with you, obviously, because that would be revolting. How old are you, anyway? Eighty?"

He didn't say anything, but he kept looking at her like that, like she was so young, and he was old, and she wanted to slap him. "Stop it," she said, pointlessly.

He blinked.

"Just because you're ancient doesn't mean you can just stand there look at me like I'm nothing." She crossed her arms over her chest and brought her chin up high. "The world is for the young," she said, squaring her jaw at him, wanting to sound revolutionary, rather than pathetic. She had a feeling she was failing.

"I don't consider you nothing, Miss Locksborough. I remember what it is to be young."

_Yuffie, _she wanted to tell him. _Call me Miss Yuffie. It was about a hundred billion times better when you called me Miss Yuffie instead of Miss Locksborough. _Instead, she just said, "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. You're just my neighbor." With that, she flounced past him, back to the room where Aerith and Tifa were waiting, and she tried to get rid of the shaky feeling that was all over her.

* * *

"I need to go to the city!" Yuffie wailed when they returned home, falling on the settee. "It's not fair. Reno's gone, and Mr. Valentine will be gone tomorrow if he's not already, and everything's so dull. You know nothing ever happens in the country in the summertime, and I've never been to the city. I've never been anywhere, and I need to go see the world and become...cultured."

Godo snorted. "Culture is something you could do without. I won't have one of my girls becoming city folk and putting on fine airs."

Cid Highwind was seated in a chair next to Godo, and Yuffie heard his answering snort. "Yuffie with fine airs. That's something I hope I never see."

She sat up and crossed her arms. "I wouldn't put on airs. All I want to do is visit the city. It's not like I'm going to live there. Is a visit really too much to ask for? It doesn't even have to be a long visit. Just a month or so. Please, Father?" She widened her eyes as she looked at Godo and blinked a few times, trying to create an innocent, glassy eyed look.

Godo stared at her a moment or two before shaking his head adamantly.

"But why?" she cried out. "It's not fair! I never get to do anything! It's just a visit!"

Godo jumped out of his seat suddenly and shook a finger at her. "Now you listen, young miss, and I'll tell you why! You say a short visit in the city? All right, that's fine. But what are you going to do on this visit? Go galavanting about, with other young people? And like as not, you come back half in love with some fast city man who either leaves you devastated and in ruins, or you actually marry the man and become city folk yourself. A visit is not just a visit!"

She leaned back against the settee. "But..."

"No buts!" Godo shouted at her, sitting gruffly back down. "And I'd like to know just how you were planning on arranging this visit. Do you think I can just get up and leave my estate at a time like this? Do you think we can all just move away into the city for a month? You've no relations to speak of, no family friends—"

"Actually," Shera Highwind interrupted, as she moved away from the table where she'd been sitting with Aerith, Tifa, and Elmyra, "we were planning on going to the city in a week or so, weren't we, Cid?"

Cid glanced up at his wife and nodded. "If you're still insisting on that."

"I am," Shera said, smiling. She glanced at Elmyra behind her. "I want to visit my Aunt Cait before the baby comes. I'm not sure when I'll be able to see her again after that, and she's getting so old. If it's all right with the two of you, Yuffie could come with us if she wanted to."

Shera glanced at Elmyra and Godo, and Yuffie looked between the two of them frantically. She _had_ to go the city. She _would_ go to the city, somehow. "Please, Mother. Please, Father. You know I wouldn't get into any trouble with the Highwinds there looking out for me."

Godo let out his breath slowly in something between a growl and a sigh. "I don't know," he said. "I don't want her upsetting your old aunt with her jabberings."

"Oh, Aunt Cait's easy going. And she doesn't get out of bed much anyway. Yuffie wouldn't be a bother. Cid could show her the city. He gets tired of sitting at my aunt's."

Godo glanced at the man beside. "Well, Cid?"

Cid shrugged as his crossed his arms. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't be too bad. I could use someone to go around with, and I could keep an eye on her. Take her to see her young men and make sure none of them get too fresh."

"Mr. Valentine isn't really a young man," Aerith said, coughing from the table.

Yuffie turned to her with a glare. "It's not like I'm going to the city to see him. I want to see Reno. And I want to see the city, in general. And if I happened to run into Mr. Valentine, that would just be a coincidence."

"Of course," Aerith said, smiling.

"You never did tell us what that letter was about, or why Reno and Mr. Valentine had to leave so suddenly," Tifa said.

"Well, Mr. Valentine didn't tell me much of what the letter was about either. He and Reno both had business to attend to in the city, apparently." She gritted her teeth before she spilled anything about the murder. She wanted to tell them, to tell someone, but Godo would never let her go to the city if he knew about all that. It was best to keep it simple.

"Well," Godo said, "I'm not sure I approve of either of these suspicious sounding men, but I suppose if we don't let you go, we'll never hear the end of it. If it's all right with your mother, Yuffie, you can go with the Highwinds."

Yuffie turned to Elmyra. "Please, Mother. I'll be on my best behavior, and I'll bring back presents, and I'll come back even more ladylike than I am now." She gave a hopeful smile.

Elmyra sighed. "Well, I suppose it's all right. But promise you won't do anything foolish or cause any trouble with the Highwinds."

"Of course I won't!" she exclaimed, jumping up and running to hug her mother. "I promise."

Godo snorted. "Easier said than done for you, I'm afraid."

* * *

Well, it's been a while. I'm afraid I might be a bit out of touch with FFVII fic and especially writing Yuffie...hopefully none of it seemed too out of character. I'm hoping to get back in the swing of things, though with my hectic summer, who knows...but I am not abandoning this story! I will see it through to the finish! Review if you're still reading! :D


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